Back to the Future
Having seen all of Jodhpur’s big attractions (Meherangarh Fort and the nearby marble memorials) on my first day, my second day in Jodhpur was completely unscheduled. The Lonely Planet talked about a few museums and old palaces that sounded, mildly interesting but they were pretty far from my place, and I quickly decided to skip them as I didn’t want to hassle with/pay for the necessary rickshaws. My paratha breakfast at the hotel the previous morning had been uninspiring at best, so after sleeping in a bit, I got up and ventured straight out into the bazars for a day of exploration around the city.
Before leaving Mussoorie, I spent an evening re-reading my old journal entries from our trip to Rajasthan 10 years ago. There wasn’t too much of interest, mostly just “we saw this and then went to this place” and I hadn’t even written in the names of the sights very often, instead referring to them by their function (ie. Jodhpur Fort). However, in the Jodhpur section, I had written one name – Ajit Bhavan. This was the name of one of the fancy palace/hotels on the outskirts of the city, and we had gone out there for supper one night. The evening had made quite an impression on me, I had written a fair bit about the beautiful candle-light courtyard setting, the entertainers (musicians) and obviously, the amazing food. Even without the journal, the night sticks out in my memory, peaceful, cool and magical, and I still remember the rich, creamy, sweet fruit & veggie korma that I had that night (I think of it every time I order korma, and I haven’t found anything that compares with it yet). My current edition of “the book” described the restaurant as a beautiful candlelight environment frequented by families with great food. My train to Jaisalmer didn’t leave until 11:15PM, so I had the whole evening and a good part of the night to wait around and try to entertain myself, and so I figured I treat myself and go out to check the place, have a nice meal and reconnect with my trip from 10 years ago.
I checked out of my hotel and checked my bag at the railway station, and then ventured out to find myself a rickshaw. I walked through the crowd right in front of the train-station figuring that they’d charge me double what someone else down the street would charge (which would still likely be double what it actually costs locals), and after only a few minutes of walking I found someone who didn’t ask for both my arms and legs. It was a bit of a drive, but eventually I found myself out at Ajit Bhavan – in another world. The ever-present sprawl of jam-packed Indian shops and houses on tiny crowded streets was replaced with wide roads, one side lined with elegant, glass-windowed craft boutiques catering to the “rich” crowd that stayed at the palace and other nearby luxury hotels, while the other side was barren desert scrub. It all felt somewhat out-of-place compared to regular India, but I think that it is a part of India that exists in all the big/touristy cities, I’ve just never been out to see it before.
There were actually two restaurants around Ajit Bhavan, so I went to the first one and asked the security guard out front (yep, this is certainly not your typical dhaba) if I could poke my head in to see what it was like (and see if I recognized it). What I walked into was a beautiful candle-light garden, but one where there were small walls creating little patios and winding walkways, all under a canopy of leaves. While beautiful, I quickly decided that it was not the place I remembered, and a quick look at the menu told me that I didn’t really want to spend that kind of money (dishes starting around Rs. 100) to eat at a place I didn’t have any connection with, so I said thanks and walked down to find the other restaurant.
The second one was located behind Ajit Bhavan, and to get there you had to go through the palace reception. I walked in the main gate of the palace, right past the security guard who gave me only a quick glance (amazing what white skin can get you into here, despite my somewhat grubby appearance and student-esque daypack). The main driveway was lined with palm trees and the palace at the end was magnificently light and certainly looked fit for a maharaja (though as I recall, it was only one of his advisors who built the place). The inside looked just like any luxury hotel you’d find in North America, but like the gate guard, the receptionist didn’t give me a second glance when I asked where the restaurant was (I think that if I tried that back home I’d be kindly asked to leave). The directions I was given took me out into the back courtyard along winding paths through gorgeous garden, past the palaces’ vintage car collection (there were about 10, and knowing nothing about cars I can’t tell you how impressive it really was, but they certainly looked old and in excellent condition) and finally through an arched gateway in the hedge and into the restaurant area.
Again, one quick look at the place told me that it wasn’t the one I remember visiting previously, but it was pretty spectacular. The path curved through some more gardens, around a small pond and over a little stream, past some gorgeous, traditional-looking stucco huts (that served as rooms for the hotel and certainly were better furnished/equipped than the houses they mimicked) and finally past a medium sized stage (with some traditional Rajasthani musicians playing for everyone) before coming to the front of the restaurant area (the start of the buffet line).
Before I continue, I think I should explain my feelings about restaurants. Basically, food is something that is very important to me (and all of us), and I’m willing to splurge from time to time to go to above average places. However, my general rule is that that while atmosphere is nice and I will pay a little extra to be in a nice place, the quality (and quantity) of the food is what matters to me and thus is the deciding factor in making my choice of where to go. I’d much rather have awesome food in a little shack somewhere than go out for average (or worse) food in the fanciest atmosphere you could imagine. This is even more true when traveling alone, the atmosphere doesn’t really matter much at all if there’s no one to share it with.
Having come this far and also having decided I was going to splurge a little on supper regardless of whether it was the place from memory or not, I walked up to the reception where a waiter asked what size table I wanted. Still somewhat hesitant about price however, I first asked to see a menu, but was told that the restaurant was buffet only, and that a plate was Rs. 600. I tried to hide my shock at this, and replied that I wanted to see what was available before I decided, but basically had made up my mind that the price was well beyond even splurging and I just wanted to see what was considered a Rs. 600 meal. Walking along the buffet line (still with my backpack on), I quickly realized that there wasn’t anything really special about the food, all the dishes were the same ones you’d find on any typical Indian restaurant menu, and while they all looked good, they didn’t appear to be any different than what you’d get at the other places. My guess is that because of the typical clientele, the restaurant was just pricing itself in western terms, and from that perspective, $15 for a nice meal in a beautiful place doesn’t seem so bad. All the people sitting at the restaurant were white and seemed very comfortable at the elegant tables with stylized napkins, wine glasses and three forks per setting – I don’t think they would have even considered eating at a normal Indian restaurant – and it reminded me that there are people who come on week-long tours of India, flying from tourist site to tourist site and being escorted in luxury from attraction to attraction and then back to their luxury hotels & restaurants, basically living in a completely separate world right amoungst the millions of average Indians whom these tourists likely don’t even know exist. To come all this way and miss the best part of the country, the people, the culture, the new experiences and diversity just seems idiotic to me, but there’s obviously an appeal for some -Â goes to show what’s important in our culture…
So while the place was gorgeous, and the musicians gave it even more flare (that I would even be able to appreciate alone), the price was just too high – and the food didn’t look very special or to my taste – so I decided that I couldn’t justify eating there. Plus, the thought of hanging out with the rich tourists living the luxury life completely out of tune with the country they are visiting just didn’t seem like something I wanted to do. I retraced my steps through the garden and back to reception where I tried to sneak past the clerk (walking right out after asking directions in didn’t seem polite) and either he didn’t see me or didn’t care, and from there it was out the front door, along the palm lined driveway and out the main gate. Having arrived there, I realized that finding a rickshaw to take me back to town was going to be difficult – there really wasn’t much around the palace and it seemed that the palace guests were more the type that would hire a taxi for the day and so wouldn’t be attracting loads of rickshaws. However, within a few minutes one showed up, and though I had to bargain a little bit, he agreed to take me back to the railway station – I didn’t have anywhere else to go, and figured that I’d find some more reasonably priced food around a travelers centre like the station.
In the end, I found a little restaurant just across the street from the train station where for Rs. 100 I had an amazing traditional Rajasthani thali (large plate with several dishes, roti and rice – a complete meal). To top it off, while the atmosphere was not quite as nice as the garden places, it was still a lot classier than the typical Indian restaurant (super clean, glass fronted with decorated walls, air-conditioned and ambient music) so I felt like I still had a fancy meal. It’s typical India, things just have a way of usually working out, so even though I didn’t find the place from my memories, the Rs. 120 for the rickshaws out and back was worth seeing what upper class tourism in India means, and also remembering back to 10 years ago. As for the food, even though I didn’t eat at the fancy place, I still got in a great meal and when you count the money I saved (or even if you don’t), I think I came out better in the end.
This is the online home of one Shane Warner, my place to attempt to tell some of my stories, as well as just spout off whatever comes to mind.
